Darkborn (Shattering of the Nocturnai Book 4)

by Carrie Summers

  Every person on the precipice stood with a slight hunch in their back, pain tightening the skin around their eyes. The dawnweaving was hurting them. I remembered the sick feeling, the sensation that my organs were being removed through my throat. I was surprised they could even stand upright. Maybe Paono just hadn’t drawn much from them yet.

  I looked out from Paono’s eyes and sensed the emotions coursing through him, but I couldn’t influence his body. As the first attacker sprang, only to be knocked back by a swipe of the oarsman’s massive fist, I realized that this might be the last time I sensed the world through a human form. My body was gone, yet I hadn’t entered the aether. When Paono released the dawnweaving, I might simply cease to exist.

  But I couldn’t think about that now.

  Tell me you’re alive, Lilik. I know it’s not true, but maybe if you say it… You were always so strong. If anyone could bend the world, reshape reality to suit her vision, it’s you.

  As Paono cast the thought inward, he stood with hands limp at his side. Another attacker sidled forward, eyes darting in search of an opening in the smuggler’s defensive crouch. The attacker flinched and stepped back when the smuggler aimed a quick jab at the air before his face.

  Mieshk shrieked. “Kill him, you idiots!”

  Faces grimacing in pain, the crowd shifted forward again. Their movements were reluctant as if Paono’s draw had weakened Mieshk’s hold. But we wouldn’t last long even under a subdued attack, not with Paono standing here, defeated.

  With a snarl of annoyance at her slaves, Mieshk tramped forward, shoving aside a sailor who stumbled, went down, and nearly fell off the rock rib.

  Snap out of it, Paono! I yelled.

  Mieshk stepped closer, her heat washing over us to join the warmth radiating from Ioene. The smuggler defending Paono stood before the Ulstat heir, fists raised yet trembling.

  Don’t make him die for you, I yelled.

  With a roar, Paono gathered his grief, packed it so tight inside his heart that it became a hard knot of rage.

  “Step aside. I’ll take care of her,” he said in a low growl. As he spoke, Paono drew deeper from the energy of the sparks. Even Mieshk winced. As tainted and twisted as it was, her soul was still part of the living. Her own energy would aid in her defeat. I wanted nothing more than to leap forth and wrap my hands around Mieshk’s throat. Instead, I shoved every drop of determination and resolve across the link that bound me to Paono. He nodded as my emotions flooded him.

  We’ve got this, Lilik. Together.

  As Paono advanced on her, Mieshk screamed and raised her arms, the hands of flame erupting once again. She reached for Paono. Like it had been with me, her flame couldn’t contact his flesh. But the power in her fire wrapped him, binding his hands to his side. His flesh bubbled, blisters bursting. Paono accepted the pain, wrapped it up and forced it into the blazing rage at his core.

  With a sudden snap as if a coin had been spinning and spinning until finally landing face up, Paono’s dawnweaving crashed into place. From inside the weave as well as inside Paono’s mind, I felt the sudden surge of his Want.

  I expected his magic to throw off Mieshk’s hands, to fall over her in a crushing wave, to inundate her lungs and drown her right before us. But Paono didn’t Want that. No matter his anger or grief or regret, in his heart, Paono remained true. His calling was mercy. As I stared, shocked, through his eyes, the shimmering cloud that surrounded him lifted free. The glimmering motes passed through the fire and fell like a gentle rain atop Mieshk’s blazing form. Where every speck landed, fire fizzled. Wisps of steam drifted off her body as she fought the cleansing fog. The flaming hands vanished as the aurora snuffed her blaze. Paono’s hands were outstretched, palms forward. As the aurora left him, his skin lost the inner glow, returning him to the boy I’d grown up with.

  Within the space of moments, the last of the aurora fled Paono to quench Mieshk’s power. The remnants of her fire sputtered and died.

  Mieshk fell to her knees, a wretched thing. No longer charred and cracked, her skin returned to the tan hues of the islands. She ran clawed hands over her bare scalp, plunged fists into eyes slowly returning to ordinary human orbs.

  A shattering sensation filled Paono’s mind as the raw energy in his dawnweaving pierced the shell containing the nightstrands. At once, the souls burst from their prison, shouting in a clamor of exultation. The deluge of spirits raced through Paono’s mind, forcing me to shut down my senses lest I lose my identity in their torrent.

  The Vanished were free at last. Paono had claimed he needed to kill someone for his dawnweaving to undo the prison he had built. It had never occurred to me that I might be the soul that was lost. Deep in Paono’s mind, I felt hints that he was coming to the same realization. But he wasn’t ready to acknowledge it. He still held hope that I wasn’t gone.

  At the edge of the spire, where the rock rib gave passage to Ioene’s slopes, the people Mieshk had enthralled gagged and coughed and fell to their knees as her commands drained away.

  Caffari shoved aside those in front of her and stamped toward Mieshk, pulling a dagger from her belt.

  “Caffari. She can’t hurt us anymore,” Paono said softly. “She was born to madness. Isn’t that suffering enough?”

  In response, Mieshk laughed. “Mercy, he claims. Gentleness. He believes these acts make him better. Different. But what mercy is it to leave me powerless? The Hollow Ones seek strength. They will only follow someone who commands the fire. Like this, I’m nothing but a wretch. Food for their master.”

  “The Hunger cares nothing for who or what you are,” Paono said. “You’ve opened the way for the end of civilization. Yet still, I choose to forgive you.”

  He stepped forward and offered a hand to help her up, but Mieshk turned hate-filled eyes on him. She spat, narrowly missing his hand.

  With a shrug, Caffari grabbed Mieshk under the armpit. She dragged the girl to her feet and laid her blade against Mieshk’s scrawny throat.

  Mieshk sneered. “Do it. Please.”

  In disgust, Caffari clucked her tongue and shoved Mieshk backward. Following the motion, the bandit queen doubled over, still feeling the pain of the dawnweaving.

  The rift, I said into Paono’s thoughts. None of this matters if it remains open. You need to seal it while you have the power.

  Swallowing, he nodded. I felt him focus his inner awareness on Ashkalan and the harbor. As he did, the Hunger surged forward, drawn by his interest. The Hollow One was still there, devouring souls. A dark stain on the world. Paono’s perception of the aether was far weaker than mine had been. But still, through his awareness, I felt a spirit scream as it first entered the aether, then began to be flayed, bit by bit.

  I didn’t understand why Mieshk’s former followers hadn’t fled. We’d long since moved more than a thousand paces from Ashkalan, and now her power was neutralized. Maybe terror bound them. Or maybe the Hunger held them close.

  Another scream, echoing across the aether. Another death and dismemberment of the spirit that had filled the body.

  Inhaling deeply, Paono formed his desire. He Wanted nothing more than to close the awful rift between our realm and the Hunger beneath. Every speck of his beginning pleaded for it.

  I felt the weave, perceived it clearly for the first time. Two hundred sparks, everyone on the island. All joined together in Paono’s desire.

  His Want pushed against the void, enveloping it. But rather than shying away, the Hollow One snarled and opened itself wide. It began to suck.

  I was falling. Beside me, other lights tumbled toward the pit.

  No! someone screamed. Maybe it had been me.

  An instant later, Paono released the weave. He’d felt it. His magic was nothing compared to the pull of the Hunger. By attempting to seal the rift, he’d nearly fed it our spirits.

  Suddenly, I was vanishing. Before, Paono’s weave had held me close, giving me substance. But it was gone. My light waned, fading from the world. But at t
he last instant, Paono leaped for me, grabbing hold. The silvery thread that bound us stretched. Thinned. And finally, he began to pull me back. As my awareness retreated up the hill, dragged by Paono’s link, I caught a last glimpse of the harbor. The last sparks were gone from the wharf. Devoured.

  The Hollow One stirred. It’s inky, oily presence rose from the harbor and began to move. Horror struck me as another monster began to crawl from the gaping hole in the world.

  Panic flooded my spirit; I knew where the beast and its brethren would go next.

  Not far from Ashkalan, ships were anchored off Ioene’s coast. No one aboard knew what was coming.

  Paono held me close, cradling me with his mind. Though the other people atop the spire moved around us, peering over the crater’s rim and murmuring in low tones about the Hunger, he noticed no one but me. Tears slipped down his cheeks.

  You’re really dead, he said.

  Yes, I think so.

  He pressed his lips together to contain a sob. I can’t let you go, then. I’ll keep your spark here. With me.

  Under other circumstances, I might have considered it. I could live within him. We’d always been close, and I wouldn’t have to give up my connection to life. But my time was over. Right now, Paono needed to get to the ships and warn them. Maybe with help, he could still find a way to stop this.

  Plus, deep inside, I had a notion that fate had another plan for me. There was no certainty when he released me. But I could hope I’d move on to the next realm. At least there, I might be able to make a difference. Here, I was nothing but a passenger in Paono’s mind.

  I can’t stay, Paono. I need to enter the aether.

  He clamped down on my spirit, holding me closer. But after a moment, cold acceptance flooded him.

  The runes, he said. Maybe I can erase them.

  Maybe. But they’re nightforged.

  I know. But I don’t know what else to do.

  He started stumbling for the rock rib and the rest of the descent. Slowly, he began to release his grip on me.

  Wait, Paono. Send the others to the ships, then. Someone needs to warn them.

  As if shocked that the rest of the group still remained, he turned. He couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes; his grief over my loss was too private. As he drew breath to speak, a sudden movement by Mieshk stopped him short. She’d been slumped at the edge of the group. No longer important. Defeated.

  With a growl, she stood, face livid.

  “You’ll never defeat what comes,” she said, snarling. “At least I’ve done that much. There’s no earthly power that can overcome it. I said I would control it, but those were just the whispers. Seductive. They knew what I wanted. But now I see the lies. The moment you ruined me, the Hunger turned away. Its shards will feed on everyone here. The gate will open wider and wider until all life is gone from our world.”

  Paono drew himself up, momentarily armoring his soul against the grief that tore at it. “I don’t accept that, Mieshk. I will always keep trying, just like Lilik would have. There is always hope.”

  As if hurt by his words, Mieshk flinched. And maybe she was. Maybe she’d always hated me because I represented something she could never have. I believed in myself. I accepted no limitations. But her reaction quickly faded. After a moment, her lips peeled back from teeth that were once again white.

  “You’re wrong. Just like you were wrong about your friend Lilik. She wasn’t strong enough to face me, and she chose death instead.”

  Paono began to tremble. The anger in his core burned white-hot. His fists clenched as if he were imagining pummeling her then shoving her off the drop and into the lava below. But with a slow inhalation, he turned and started down the slope, leaving her behind.

  I need to go, too, Paono, I said quietly.

  I guess I’ll never feel ready to lose you.

  Probably not. But I’m not meant to be here. In between. No one is. As I said the words, I felt the rightness of them. Just like I’d sensed the nature of the fire and aurora. Everything has a balance. All souls go to the aether. These were the rules.

  And if breaking the rules and shattering the balance had opened the rift, perhaps my choice to follow the rules could close it.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  UNTIL I ENTERED the aether, I hadn’t really, truly believed I was dead. But I knew it when the vast landscape of souls opened all around me. I knew my body was gone because I had no sense of confusion like I’d experienced on Araok Island. Then, a fragment of my spirit had remained in my dying body, preventing me from being whole within the aether. But not now. Now all of me had passed beyond the veil. All of me that remained, anyway.

  I took a moment to collect myself. I could grieve for my life later—if we managed to close the rift. Right now I had my duty.

  After putting back the pieces of my scattered resolve, I focused on my surroundings. Ioene’s aether opened in all directions, unbounded. I felt the celestial humming of the aurora and the compelling vitality of the fire, two forces calling to my soul. I understood now why so many strands struggled against the pull of the fire. It promised excitement, the rush of riding a horse at full gallop. I felt as if I could dive in and reclaim the heart-pounding sensation of the first time Raav pressed his lips to mine.

  Raav. Oh, tides. For all my talk of coming back to him, I’d left him alone. A broken promise.

  I swiped away the thought. The time for regrets would come later.

  In the sky above me, the rift was a black gash, ragged at the edges and growing by the minute. A fissure in both the physicality and the aether. Nothing mattered unless someone—Paono? Me?—could seal that gate.

  Paono’s dawnweaving hadn’t been strong enough to resist the Hunger’s pull. But within the aether, thousands of souls would respond to my Need. It might be enough.

  I opened my awareness wider, reaching for the nightstrands of the Vanished. As if surfacing through shimmering water, they appeared before me, a sea of strangers. Many had no faces and were nothing but vague suggestions of human forms. The most distant ancestors, maybe. The images projected in the aether were manifestations of a soul’s inner identity. Those who’d died many thousands of years ago had likely lost much of their connection to the people they’d been in life.

  I didn’t want to look down at my body. I didn’t want to know whether I still saw myself as a ragged gutterborn waif from Istanik.

  Instead, I ran my gaze over the crowd. Closest to me, the faces were still sharp, the clothing detailed. A man stepped forward, middle-aged but still handsome. He wore a tunic with embroidered thread that shifted colors as he moved. His eyes were a bright hazel, almost gold. I recognized him immediately through the aura he projected.

  “Hello, Peldin.” When I’d first learned to channel the thoughts and emotions of the nightstrands, the clamor in my head had been too loud. Too much to handle. Peldin had been nominated as the single spokesman for their civilization. We’d had our disagreements, but it seemed right that he be the first to greet me.

  “I can’t say I’m glad to see you here,” he said. His gaze flicked to the rent in the sky. Tendrils of oily smoke were pouring through. The second Hollow One had nearly emerged.

  I scanned the horizon, and panic struck me. But I saw the sparks aboard the ships, a twinkling constellation of living souls. A shifting black horror flowed across the aether, speeding toward them. The Hollow One would devour them.

  “We don’t have time to talk,” I said. “Give me your hand.”

  As I had on Araok Island, I reached for the nearest strands, imagining that I clasped hands with each spirit then bound them to my heart. One after the other, I gathered the Vanished. As I did, snippets of their lives and emotions flashed through my mind. There were so many. Thousands more than had inhabited Leesa Ulstat’s domain.

  “A duskweaving! Where did you learn it?” Peldin asked. “And here I thought you were helpless without me.”

  I paused long enough to roll my eyes. I’d forgotten h
ow insufferable he could be.

  When I reached again into the crowd, taking another hand in mine, I gasped. I knew the person almost as well as I knew myself.

  As Zyri stepped forward, I stood frozen. She was about my height, but with lighter hair that fell nearly to her waist. When she smiled, two small dimples dented her cheeks. I never had a sister. But looking into her eyes, I felt as if she were the twin I’d never known.

  “I found Tyrak,” I whispered. Of course, I’d recently thrown him away somewhere near Ioene’s jagged summit. For all I knew, he was lost forever.

  Zyri pressed her lips together, and her eyes glistened as tears welled. She nodded.

  “I promised him I’d try to find a way for you to be together. If we survive—I mean, if we still exist after this, I’ll make the same promise to you.”

  There was so much I wanted to tell her. I felt like we’d lived our whole lives together—and we had, even if only in our memories. Instead, I latched her to my heart and reached into the aether again.

  Soul after soul joined my duskweaving. Power shimmered around me, a bright star to rival the dark gash in the sky.

  But when I next looked, the Hollow One had nearly closed the distance with the sparks.

  A small group of sparks stood between the shadow and the main group on the ships. Abruptly, the cluster flared an intense red haloed in black. I remembered that color. Panic. Rot.

  I scooped as many souls as I could into my arms. No time for gentleness. Squeezing them to me, I fell deeper into the thrumming, sizzling power that surrounded me.

  I’d worked magic before. Now, I was magic.

  Every drop and speck and fiber of my soul blazed with potential. Before, I’d been a mote of dust floating on the ocean of power. Now I was that ocean.

  My futures were countless.